


My Lovely Danger

by Cecil_G_P



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, peter needs affection too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 01:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12948810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecil_G_P/pseuds/Cecil_G_P
Summary: Peter Nureyev's heists usually go according to plan.Usually.





	My Lovely Danger

**Author's Note:**

> You know, as cool as Peter's lifestyle is, there must be a lot of trauma that gets tied up with when things go wrong.

Peter can feel the steel of the airlock, unrelenting under his fists. Pounding on the door. “Juno! Juno! Open this door! Juno!” He can hear the wet ripping noises of Miasma martian limbs, her threats, Juno’s blaster. 

He pounds at the door even harder, hears the blaster again, but this time he doesn’t just hear the shot, he feels it, burning in his side. And suddenly Peter is ripped out of time and place and he’s in so much pain and so confused and he’s running and he rememberes. 

He’s nineteen and just bit off a bigger con than he could chew, got cocky, didn’t watch the rotations of the guards closely enough, and now half a dozen mobsters are on his heels and there’s a laser burn in his side and all he can feel is the pounding of his feet against concrete and his own gasping for breath, and all he can hear are the shouted threats from afar and another laser blasting its way through the wall where he just was. The blast throws him off balance and he’s falling. 

Falling towards the ground, he braces for the bite of the concrete but it never comes. His eyes whip open and there’s nothing but open sky. Peter is twenty three and  _ was _ three steps away from the edge of the solar system’s most impressive cliffside, about to sneak a priceless piece of jewelry right out from under a wealthy heiress and her wife’s nose. She wasn’t married it turned out, just was very intimate with her bodyguard. A bodyguard who had no qualms about shoving someone over the railing. And now all there is is sky and vertigo and flashes of the ground so so far below. And all of a sudden his fall is halted as blue electricity lights up around him and an invisible safety net springs to life, and he’s rolling in the net but he can still see the ground ever so far below, still feel his stomach dropping the rest of the way down. 

And his stomach is turning, turning, turning, and he’s twenty nine in a motel, coughing up a lung, vision swimming as he frantically researches symptoms of different poisons and antidotes and he can’t go the hospital because the wealthy businessman he just shared dinner with owns the city’s medical care system and something tells Peter that he didn’t get this stomach bug from bad food. So he coughs, and tries not to panic, and researches, and resolves to make sure this will  _ never _ happen to him again. And his eyes are drooping and his vision is blurring.

And his eyes sting and he’s thirty two and wishing that Mag had taught him how to use a blaster instead of a knife. Because he’s surrounded and it doesn’t matter if he slices one jugular, because three more goons take their place. And they’ve got fists like you’ve never seen and Peter’s eyes are hurting like hell and he can barely see and he can feel blood running down his face, and one more broken nose means he’s going to have to find time for one more cosmetic surgery- no one’s going to buy priceless art from a man who clearly broke his nose acquiring the art. And there’s so many and he’s so tired, and his feet get swept out from under him and Peter finally gives in to the cold wave of animal panic and clutches his knife a little tighter and goes for the achilles tendons. 

And he slices and slices and slices with his knife and he’s thirty six and can’t tell when Miasma’s arms gave way to tentacles or why she has so many. And Juno’s hurt and Juno’s scared and it’s Peter’s  _ fault  _ that he’s here, and Peter isn’t sure what it would be like to go back to living in a world without Juno Steel but he sure as hell doesn’t want to find out. So he slashes and he slices and he gets in Miasma’s way before she can get to Juno. And then Juno grabs his hand and flashes a smile and suddenly Peter’s behind the airlock and Juno  _ isn’t  _ and he can’t take it anymore so instead of pounding at the door he curls into a ball and gives into the shaking and the too fast breathing. 

And he should be the one shouting “Juno!” but instead he’s hearing Juno whisper “Peter!”

Peter blinks awake, and there is no Miasma, no falling, or fighting, or hurting, but there is someone stroking his face and whispering “Peter” so desperately and oh so tenderly. 

Peter is thirty eight and tangled in the sheets, shaking so badly he can’t do anything else but register Juno’s hands stroking his cheek and in his hair and Juno’s voice in his ear. 

After an immeasurable amount of time his breathing slows and the trembling dies down- though he still feels shaky- and he sit’s up and crushes Juno in a tight hug, pressing his face into his neck. Juno squeezes back so tightly but so gently and finally, Peter feels safe. He hasn’t seen Juno in over a month, his heist had ran longer than expected and it was oh so good to be back in his arms. 

“Hey, you ok?” Juno mumbles into Peter’s hair and strokes his back a little. Peter inhales the scent of Juno and considers the question. There’s no use pretending everything’s fine, Juno found him in the throes of a nightmare- the instant he came home judging by the fact that he was still wearing his trenchcoat and shoes- and besides, the more time he spent with Juno the more willing he was to go to him for comfort, craved it even. However he didn’t want to make a big deal out of a nightmare. 

“I’m much better now that you’re here.” His voice comes out quieter than he’d like but he knows Juno can still hear him. Especially when he pulls back and cups Peter’s face in his hand. 

“Are you sure about that?” He swipes a thumb under Peter’s eye and suddenly he remembers why he hadn’t waited up for Juno or gone to his office. That eye is blackened and his lip is split, along with a collection other bruises and small cuts littering his body. He aches at the reminder of his wounds but they’re nothing serious, just a reminder of other failed heists, come to haunt him. 

He can see the concern lingering in his love’s face, it’s not often Peter comes home looking like this, once he had even delayed his return in order to heal from a wound that would otherwise make Juno worry. But he had been so tired this time and missed Juno too much. And it would be hypocritical, he thought, to hide his own injuries when he was so adamant that Juno never do so.

“It’s been a rough week I’ll admit. But there is something you can do to help.” 

“Yeah?” Juno strokes his thumb down from the black eye and across his cheek. “Do you need some painkillers?”

“Not the ones you’re thinking of love.” He flashes a grin. “Have you ever heard of kissing something to make it better?”

Juno snorts, surprised, and grins before pressing a gentle kiss to Peter’s eye and his lips and the cut running across his shoulder. “I’ll be right back with the actual painkillers, you sappy idiot.” He stands and sheds his coat before heading to the medicine cabinet. “And how about dinner? You up for some take out?”

Several hours later finds them both back in bed, Peter's head pillowed on Juno’s chest with the blankets cocooned around them, creating a soft and comfortable darkness. Juno’s snoring is comforting, reminding Peter that he’s not alone in the bed and with his bruises and nightmares. He sighs and nestles into Juno’s chest, who’s arms tighten reflexively around him. In the safety of his love’s arms Peter finally manages to drift back to sleep.


End file.
